A Tinder Hookup?
by frizzyfreckles
Summary: Hogwarts-age canon Hermione would never go on A Tinder date with the aim of hooking up with Draco Malfoy, but hey, this is fan fiction set in an AU where they both swipe right. And everyone loves some steamy Dramione, right? Right.


Author's note: helllooo everyone! Haven't written a fanfic in bloody ages so apologies if I'm a bit rusty... Please R&R and let me know if this is worth another chapter?. and pls enjoy xoxo

He was running late – of course, the arrogant prick - so Hermione approached the rosy barman and ordered a beer, following the faint scent of cigarettes and the dappled warmth of spring out into the garden. It wasn't even a garden really, just a bright alley between the pub and the next-door building, dotted with potted plants and picnic benches. The walls stretched up to either side of her as she settled on a bench, tilting her head towards the cloudless sky, dissected by strings of fairy lights, which were just turning on as the light began to fade, streaking the heavens with pink.

She looked up as Draco approached, a beer in his hand, that typical smirk plastered over his aristocratic face. He was more tanned than she remembered, more muscular. He looked like a man; different to the thin, pale boy she used to know. Or, rather, the boy she thought she'd known.

As he sat down, greeting her as 'Granger' in a way that was simultaneously uncomfortably nostalgic and extremely sexy, she wondered again why she'd agreed to meet him. Or why she'd swiped right in the first place. As a young, prudish girl at Hogwarts, she'd never have imagined a future in which she'd go on a Tinder date with Draco bloody Malfoy, but here she was. Was it curiosity? A desire to know how he'd changed and why he was interested? Or was it the simple fact that Draco was tanned and toned and had that classy-yet-rugged vibe down to a T? And, of course, that fact that she hadn't got laid since Ron ditched her four months ago for Pansy Parkinson, of all people, had definitely played a part.

Malfoy's conversation was easy and charming. His jokes were tasteful and his eyes only briefly strayed to her chest, tactfully exposed. His legs stretched out below the table, settling comfortably around her crossed ones, which she purposefully pressed against the inside of his thigh. The light disappeared rapidly, leaving the two bathed in the balmy evening, the first of what would be a pleasant May. Hermione's head felt lighter as she drank, her laugh became more genuine, and her conversation grew loose and open. When Draco returned with their next drink, he surprised her by sitting next to, not across from her. His leg made contact with hers under the table, his muscular forearm resting on the table next to his drink. She found herself telling him about Ron's infidelity, even as she felt his palm come to rest on her thigh, his fingers gently tracing circles on her knee, and she turned on the bench, opening herself towards him. His brow furrowed as she told her story, the hurt still evident in her eyes.

Hermione didn't know why she was telling Malfoy about her failure of a love life, after all, she was hoping to seduce him, not elicit sympathy. But it worked, and Malfoy's hand slid up her thigh as he leant in, his breath soft: "Let's give Weasel something to be jealous about, then, Granger." And with that he leant in, pressing his lips against hers and tangling his fingers in her golden brown curls. Her hand rested on his chest, the other reaching for his neck, as she deepened his kiss, his tongue dominant and skillful. And then his lips were breaking away, his hands were pulling her up, curling around her waist, and she followed, already lost to his charm. "Let's get out of here." It wasn't a question, more of a statement, but she didn't argue.

As soon as they had left the pub and passed onto a more secluded street, Draco stopped and pressed her against a brick wall, pausing with ragged breath to mutter, " you're so fucking _hot,_ Granger," before crashing his lips into hers with passionate fervor. His hands left her hair after a few moments, sliding down to her waist, pulling her willful body against his own. There was no space between them, she could feel her hips pressed against his and she wrapped her hands around his neck, trailing them into his bleach-blonde locks, down his toned biceps as his moved down to her arse, slowly at first. Then, when she didn't break away, he slid them down, grabbing her over her skin-tight jeans and provoking a small gasp that he felt through their kiss, as she felt her arousal growing. Malfoy's lips moved to her neck and she kept her eyes closed, head tilted towards the early night sky as he sucked gently on the skin between her neck and collarbone. As his hand moved up to cup her breast, she felt the overwhelming urge to feel more of his skin than she could with her hand just pressed against the musclar stomach underneath his shirt. She broke away from the kiss, looking into Draco's eyes, hooded with lust. "Your place or mine?" She whispered breathlessly and she saw his eyes twinkle with satisfaction as he squeezed her closer, hands still cupping her arse and trailing up to rest on her waist with a possessiveness she found instantly alluring. "Mine."


End file.
